Chapter Nine

I don't know how to feign confidence. I don't know how to make it look like I'm proud of my position when in reality, I am terrified of it.

I do not know how to play the games of the elite.

Virtus and I are at a television broadcasting studio. There are police everywhere, obviously trying to protect Virtus from any erratic fans, or non-fans. I sit in a chair that spins, and I watch Virtus as he and Chelsea are sitting side-by-side in front of the cameras. There are makeup artists working on the both of them. They were set to go live in only a few moments.

Mr. Scott wasn't here, and I had expected Alan to come, but he was nowhere to be seen, which was a blessing I didn't forget to thank God for.

I spun in the chair, and then realize that was incredibly childish, and instead leaned back, staring at the man I'm set to follow for the next two weeks and a half. 

One of the camera men was telling him something, and he nodded, to him. The makeup artist was putting the finishing powder on his face, and as they stepped away from the engaged couple, one of the crewmen called out for a countdown.

I couldn't help but be fascinated with the cameras and filming process. There were three cameras; one focused on Virtus, one focused on Chelsea, and one focused on the both of them. Connected to the three cameras were three televisions, showing what the cameras were capturing.

I stared at the screen that showed Virtus. Somehow the fuzzy picture made him look ten times more menacing, or perhaps it was just the familiar feeling of watching him from a television back at home.

As the cameraman began to shout a countdown before they went live, I noticed on screen that Virtus was looking to his right. I wondered what it was that he was looking at, and when I took my eyes off the screen to see the real him, the object he was staring at was not an object at all. It was me.

We stared at each other, and I tried to decipher his expression, but he was so good at keeping a blank mask on, that it was almost impossible to figure him out.

I lifted my hand, and did the only thing I could think to do. I gave him a thumbs up.

His blank face faltered for only a slight second as his lips curved up, before he quickly composed himself back to the empty look of the Bone Cutter.

I grinned at him, satisfied that I could make him smile so easily. Before his face betrayed him again, he looked away from me, and strictly faced the camera.    

As the countdown finished, the cameras went live, and as if on queue, Chelsea's face lightened from a bitter expression, to one of joyous enthusiasm. Her glistening blue eyes and tanned skin only accented her satisfying smile, and even I was nearly convinced of her faux enthusiasm.

Virtus showed no emotions whatsoever. His voice demanded respect as he spoke to the cameras, "Good morning, to all Americans, and those who are observing across the world. It is not lost to me how sudden this broadcast is.  I come to you today to announce a new beginning to our country's future." His back straightened, and I frowned. I barely know him, but throughout the last few days being glued to his side, I feel like I could read him a lot better than most. He didn't look comfortable in the slightest bit. "Next month, July twenty-first, myself, and Chelsea Scott, daughter of Christopher Scott, will be getting married, and unionizing our loyalty to this country."

Chelsea took the slight pause to speak up, "Words do not express my gratitude for this opportunity. I swear it, my duties as the Harvester will be my highest priority. Our goal from this union is to bring hope back to the American people, to solidify the future with confidence that those who deserve justice, will receive justice.  I do not take this position lightly, and I will go beyond my capabilities to do it right. My love for my fellow Americans is stronger than anything I have ever felt before. As your future Harvester, I will never forget why I was bestowed this position, and I will not rest until your faith in our justice system is stronger than it ever has been before." Wow she was good. Even I felt myself want to believe her. She clearly was used to this sort of thing. She was born for it.

"We thank you, for your acceptance, and for encouraging our engagement." Virtus finished, "God bless this union, and God bless America."

The cameras went off, and immediately Virtus stands, and heads for the door. I remember that I have to follow him, and quickly run after him. I dare to glance back, my eyes landing on Chelsea. Her mask had dissolved, and she was back to looking as miserable as she did entitled. I shivered at how well these elites could so easily lie, and be believed.

The drive back to Virtus's apartment was silent. Virtus kept his attention to his book, even when we returned to the apartment, and I've come to understand that reading may be his coping mechanism. Anytime he was severely pissed off, he would read. It was how he calmed himself down.

I wasn't going to complain, I'd rather him silently read instead of taking his rage out on me. 

I felt a sudden pain on the side of my head. My eyes opened, and I realized I had fallen asleep. Virtus was standing in front of me, and it didn't take long for me to realize he had flicked the side of my head with his fingers.

It kind of hurt, but I resisted the urge to rub the spot. 

"Sleep well?" His sarcasm was irritating. He had no right to be angry at me, when I was the one sitting here waiting for him nearly all day.

I shift myself to a not-so-slouched, position, "I don't know what you expect from me. I'm a grown adult, forced to sit for hours and stare at a wall while you read. It's-"

"It's what?" He was baiting me. I think he always baits me. He likes to do it. He likes it when I'm angry at him.

"Boring." I say, because I'm still half asleep, and because I do think I'm beginning to form a death wish.

He rolls his eyes, but says nothing, "We're leaving."

"Where are we going?" The question slips out before I could stop it, and immediately, I regret asking. He looks at me funny, and I quickly apologize, "Sorry. Forget I said that."

He chooses not to forget as he says, "The Scott's are throwing a party at one of their privately owned nightclubs. It's a celebration for our engagement." He didn't look the least bit thrilled about that, "We have to attend."

My heart dropped, "I've never been to a nightclub."

"Yes, well, be grateful for that."

I wince, "It can't be that bad." I was not convincing myself.

"Only with the rich it is."

Great. 

He pulls his coat back on, and I watch him, dread filling my chest. I don't want to be anywhere near the Scotts again. I don't want to be near anyone who will question my position beside Virtus, as if I didn't belong.

I didn't belong.

I need to start thinking of a way to interrogate Virtus about Cindy. There's so much I want him to tell me, and yet, I can't think of a way to get him to trust me. Right now he views me as an insufferable, idiot intern. I need him to think of me as a friend.

I can't come up with a way to question someone who hates to be questioned. It seems the longer I stay with him, the less he has any desire to explain anything.

He will never tell me about Cindy if I don't start pushing him further. I don't know how to get him to be my friend, but I've got to start trying to make a better effort.

Perhaps a nightclub, with lots of alcohol, is the best way to begin.